Twisted
by ketamine.methanol
Summary: Issues building up from the quirks of his child hood finally make Tweek snap when he's plagued with jealousy. Rated MA for sexual content, character death, and gore. Not meant for sensitive types. Creekomas


**A/N; Hahahahahaa, okay so I originally made this for the 100 themes challenge (this one was insanity) I have going on my y!Gallery (adrenaline, if anyone was curious), but I figured I'd upload it here mostly because I decided to do a few more installments for it in reference to the challenge following a similar plotline.**

**Not meant for those sensitive to gore, character death, or insanity. **

**Enjoy~**

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So sick of the laundry. Of the cooking, the cleaning, the dirty work. The this-that-and-the-other, the FUCK SHIT COCKSUCKER BALLS, the fights and the long nights and all the things that drove him past his limit. The things that pushed him over the edge, the panic attacks and the split sense of possession, and the way that no one even bothered to use the knife set that he'd gotten them all for Christmas, and the sexual tension. And the sex. And the lack of sex. And the sex that they had without him.

Tweek hated sharing.

His fingers fluttered over the kitchen counter and it was so early in the morning. He rubbed his hands together, turned the taps on, washed them, dried them, and only then did he turn both nozzles off again with chattering teeth at the lack of hot water. Craig was in the shower for two hours that night with Thomas. They took forever.

Forever.

Now they were in bed. Together. Neither had bothered to call him upstairs, no. He was left again to his own devices; counting things, trying to keep a moment's sanity and not to panic.

Tweek was tired of panicking.

His teeth chattered more until he finally locked his jaw, feeling the twitch in his muscles before he lowered his shoulder into a relax. He sighed, staring at the knife set. It was June. He tugged the longest blade from the sheath, uncaring about fingerprints. Let them find him, he didn't care.

It was time to put his gift to good use.

He jammed it into the back of the armchair, staring at the pong noise of the blade, half-interested in its noisy vibration before he trotted up stairs slowly, leaked into their bedroom along with the stream of light. His hands twitched as he walked closer to Thomas, and he sat carefully on the bed's edge, pressing his lips against the dirty blond's.

The other male's mouth parted in a welcoming manner, reaching a hand up before he finally opened his eyes and blinked, smiling tiredly and pulling back slowly. "Oh, I thought you were Craig. What's -ff-ff- up Tweekers?" He bit back a tick, jaw twitching as he glanced at Craig. Tweek shook his head, trying not to reveal any temper that was slowly building.

"Come downstairs with me."

Thomas obliged, and Tweek could have clicked his heels. They held hands; they did this a lot. They all loved eachother.

Tweek just loved Craig more.

Thomas humoured Tweek with a confused smile as he was pushed down into the scarlet arm chair. Tweek noted its colour seriously for the first time, but disregarded it quickly as he straddled Thomas' lap and began to kiss him. It was satisfactory - Tweek was jealous. Everything about Thomas was better. His kissing, his looks, his -- "FUCK!" Tweek jerked back, almost pinwheeling off of Thomas in surprise. His tourettes - it never failed to scare the living shit out of him. Nervously he knitted his fingers together, and Thom looked on at him in embarrassment, holding him by the hips.

"I'm sorry, Tweek."

"Thomas. I'm going to kill you."

The other blond blinked at him a moment and then cracked into a humoured smile, but Tweek didn't let him finish, reaching up to unsheathe the kitchen knife from the armchair's backing and hovering over Thomas with a serious expression as twitches prickled through his arms.

"No, Thomas. I'm really going to kill you."

The knife stabbed in with a lot more ease than Tweek could have ever imagined. A swear barely had time to escape Thomas' lips, a fountain of blood pouring over the edge of his mouth instead as Tweek hacked away at his jugular with a straight expression similar to that of Craig's on a usual day. In time Thomas only moved from the shock wave of his body being pounded into with a blade again and again, and Tweek drew the knife out one more time in order to look at the dead shock of Thomas' face.

"Oh god, Thomas. I almost feel calm. But that's only forty-seven."

One more swift stab and the even number of forty-eight passed through Tweek, satisfying his obsessive compulsive disorder that had gradually grown over the years. He took a few crisp breaths, seeing his own exhalation pass into the air in the form of a mist. When it had gotten so cold in the apartment, he wasn't sure. But it was fitting, and he licked his lips slowly, ignoring the taste of blood on them from the splatter across his front. The knife slid to the ground with a dull thud, twirling a moment on the floor before the room fell silent. There was a vague drip in the background as Thomas' throat spittled blood on the floor, his still-pumping heart expelling the remnants into the carpet. Tweek slid off of him finally, narrowly missing stepping on the knife as he walked into the kitchen sink, and once again turned on the cold water.

His hands were washed, and he stripped, letting his sopped t-shirt fall to the floor along with his boxers and sweats. He slid the second biggest blade from the knife set before he made the trek back upstairs quietly.

Craig was beautiful. Tweek did this frequently - watched him sleep. The one time where he could stare without feeling particularly intimidated. He rung his fingertips together, taking a few short breaths through his nose, before thinking back to Thomas downstairs, and letting a slow, twitchy grin crawl over his expression as he slid a hand down the front of his bloodstained body in order to touch himself, putting himself to an acceptable hardness before he peeled back Craig's covers and climbed over him, grinding his hips down into the other male's through his pajama pants.

Craig's reaction was instantaneous. The male's mouth searched out Tweek's ear, muttering his name quietly, and Tweek let his lovesick eyes flutter as he smiled. The doors had been bolted. The windows were, too. Tweek had made sure to do it, earlier in the day when Thomas and Craig were busy running the laundromat, leaving Tweek upstairs to clean compulsively. Naturally this was not what Tweek had been doing. The moment Thomas and Craig stepped into the shower, Tweek went about locking the doors more permanently. No one was leaving unless it was causing some serious damage.

Craig was inside of him in no time, and the blond panted feverishly as he kissed Craig hard, riding him with his nails etching parallel lines in his lover's chest. He let his fingers twitch, thighs quivering on either side of Craig's waist as the other male sat up and gripped his hips, tilting him back a bit in order to fuck him deeper.

Craig paused. "Tweek... what the fuck. Why're you wet? You already fuck Thomas or something?" He released Tweek's hip, but the blond gripped his wrist through the dark in order to raise the ravenette's hand to his mouth and give his finger a long suck that sent a chill through Craig's body. Tweek shook his head. "Oh... oh, God, no. No... we didn't get the chance. But that doesn't matter."

Craig returned his hands to Tweek's waist and pushed him down with every intent of fucking him harder, driving cries of pleasure from the smaller twenty-four-year-old's lips.

Instead he spilt into his hand, and slid his eyes open, staring down at the sleeping Craig.

Craig was still beautiful. Tweek twitched, licking his fingers clean as he rolled the handle of the knife around in his palm. He climbed onto Craig's hips for real this time, knowing what the true outcome would be. Craig stirred, eyebrow twitching through the dark as Tweek folded his arms above Craig's head, staring down into his slowly opening eyes keenly. Craig stared back at him through the dark groggily, running a hand over Tweek's ass and then tilting his head up a bit when he realized he was totally naked.

And covered in cum and blood.

Craig's eyes actually widened. "Tweek, what the fuck happened?"

Tweek leaned down, kissing him slightly. "Craig, I'm not twitching anymore."

Craig parted his lips slightly, eyes staring forward at Tweek in confusion as he kissed back before pulling away and staring up at the blond again. "Tweek. What the fuck happened? Don't make me ask you a third time."

Craig became vaguely concerned, mostly because the unusually still blond's expression contorted into a level of fury that he had never crossed Tweek's face ever before. Tweek snapped down slightly, nose to nose with Craig as his blue eyes burned with anger through the dark of the room. His hand tightened on the knife outside of Craig's view.

"I killed Thomas."

Craig stared at him a moment before receding back against his pillow slightly, raising his hands to Tweek's hips. "What the hell are you talking about, Tweekers? You couldn't kill a fly."

"Oh god - you're right." Tweek let the knife slip between the head board and the mattress, before getting up. "We planned something for you. Just go downstairs. You'll see."

Craig stared at him suspiciously before rolling out of bed after rooting Tweek off of him, pulling on a night robe and heading out of their bedroom with an irritated look on his refined features. Tweek stared after him dreamily before sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his knife out once more with a smile and rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed with a small smile as Craig's scream erupted from the ground floor of their town house.


End file.
